Thursday, October 27, 2011

Last Thursday mile high ...

Sitting here in my favorite room, the front room. I'mma put up some cute pics before we leave (the ones we lured in Craigslist peeps with), so you can see just how cute. I love it especially because it's the old part of the house, the hundred year part. Weirdly, I've discovered, it's the warmest part. So I'm huddled up here with my hot cocoa (whole milk, I'll have you know, with a peppermint candy melted at the bottom) and my yellow striped sweater and my fists shaking at the Playstation for refusing to play my British mystery on Netflix. So I've turned to the ol' blog instead.

Today we used up our last day of major discounted sporting goods goodness. I would have felt like a complete loser leaving without getting Harps some solid warm stuff for back East so...she scored a couple snow/sledding bibs and a super warm coat and some mittens. I bought myself a hot pink slouchy knit hat.

At one point, as cc and I debated over purple vs pink for her parka, we noticed she was gone. Two minutes ago hiding (pooping) inside of a clothes rack, she was now... no longer. Running/yelling all around the kids section turned up nothing, so my heart started to beat a bit harder. I produced a fast, fast child and wasn't too worried about the kidnapping potential (not because she's so fast no one can catch her - altho maybe? - just that it was more likely she'd bolted) ... but I was worried she'd head for the automatic doors and the parking lot and oh my stop the scary thundercloud thoughts.

I started darting around the clothing racks and shelves, calling her name and asking people for help. Suddenly, a big bulky dude appears and points to the exercise equipment. "I think that might be what you're looking for... I saw a strange small thing dart across the security cameras and came running out." Thanks, security dude!

She was just meandering along the free weights, pointing to the colored ones, naming them, asking "This? This?" Not a care in the world. Scooped her up, smothered her face, gave her a talking to, tried to hide my laughs.

The whole scene was straight out of my mom's and my life, circa 1987-1989, with my little brother T. Sweet Lorna Doone did that kid know how to bolt a scene. How he's a librarian and not a Houdini-type is still surprising to me.

Anywhos, all's well that ends well. Quite certain she learned approximately zero from the whole thing, but miss mama learned she's got a speedy mouse on her hands -- and freestyle pooping under sweatshirts is no longer allowed.


  1. Will never forget that day, and his reaction - who are you people? Better put a lease on her at the airport.

  2. Freestyle poops! Haha

  3. Hahah! UGHH I hate that feeling. The few seconds it takes for panic to rise. Also, the pooping in clothesracks... HAHAHA! Oh how the top right hand part of the country is excited you're coming.


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